Legolas and the Earwig Infestation
by Aranel Carnilino
Summary: Mirkwood is experiencing a pest problem...


**Legolas and the Earwig Infestation**

_Aranel; 2005—2006_

_A/N: This is a story inspired by my hatred for earwigs…and yes, I do have an infestation of earwigs in my house at present. _

"Come in, Gimli," welcomed Legolas cordially. "Make yourself at home." Gimli entered the spacious Mirkwood palace parlor and sat in one of the comfy, velvet-lined chairs.

"How has life been to you, laddie?" asked Gimli, once he was comfortably settled. "It was nice of you to invite me down for a visit."

"Oh, don't mention it," said Legolas, setting aside his broom. "You're welcome anytime. As for me, my life is rather complicated at present, because of the infestation. It's a dreadful problem, you see."

"Infestation? An infestation of what?"

"Didn't you know? Earwigs, of course. They are hideous little reddish insects with pinchers. And yes, they _do_ pinch. They're everywhere. I've been sweeping for hours trying to clear the place!" He stopped. "Oh, I'm being a very neglectful host! Can I get you anything, Gimli? Here, have some iced-tea." Legolas grabbed a bottle out of the cooler and handed it to Gimli. "Anyway, as I was saying, I—" he paused and stared very hard at the iced tea. His eyes grew wide with horror. "No, Gimli!" he shouted urgently. "Don't—" It was too late.

The dwarf smiled at Legolas and then frowned quite suddenly. "Legolas," he said, "is this that iced-tea that you make with a mix? I don't think you stirred it very well. There're big chunks in it!"

"Those were earwigs," said Legolas simply.

Gimli's eyes grew as big as doughnuts. "Ptooey!" he spat.

"Eww…yuck!" said Legolas. "That's just nasty! I'm dreadfully sorry, Gimli. It shan't happen again."

"I hope not," said Gimli, feeling strangely sickened. Even his iron Dwarfish stomach was feeling queasy at the thought of the earwigs he had almost imbibed.

"How about we go shoot some archery, Gimli," suggested Legolas, trying to change the subject. Therefore, he found his well-used bow and quiver, as well as a spare for Gimli that had been sitting in his closet for 200 years.

"How long has it been since you last cleaned your closet?" asked Gimli, aghast. "Your room is immaculate, but your closet…."

"Well, let me see," said Legolas. "I'd say about 150 years at least. It's just that I tend to throw anything that seems out of place in my room in my closet. Fairly soon, it became, more or less, a rubbish heap."

"Are you ever going to clean it?"

"Menel!" cried Legolas. "Certainly not! That would take centuries!"

----------

Soon, the elf and dwarf were setting up a target in the open courtyard. Then, they took about twenty paces back.

"You first," said Legolas. Gimli reached for an arrow and, feeling that it was far too lightweight, looked at it in shock. It was crawling with earwigs and riddled with holes.

"It appears the earwigs ate it," stated Legolas.

"Grrr…" growled Gimli, hurling the arrow to the ground and stomping on it. "I hate earwigs!"

"I'm sorry, Gimli," said Legolas, "you can borrow some of mine."

They finished the archery tournament. Guess who won. Gimli hit the target once, while Legolas almost missed the bull's eye on the target once. Go figure.

----------

After this, Legolas and Gimli resolved to go swimming in the Mirkwood palace pool. Legolas changed into some swimming shorts, while Gimli began stripping down.

"But you haven't any bathing things!" protested Legolas nervously.

"Oh, that's all right," said Gimli. "I'll just go skinny-dipping."

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" shrieked Legolas.

("AAAAAAAAUUUGGGHHH!" scream the readers.)

("Ooo…hot!" drools the one rabid Gimli fan.)

"I'll let you borrow some of my shorts," offered Legolas, hurriedly. "It's the least I can do!"

"Oh," thought Gimli, "all right." So Legolas grabbed Gimli a pair of shorts and the dwarf put them on.

"They fit pretty good, laddie," said Gimli. "Were they yours?"

"About 1,500 years ago."

"Well, that's…ow…something's biting…ouch…yow…owee! Ooh…ah…ee! Ow!"

Legolas stared in shock as the multitude of earwigs, which had been in the shorts, attacked Gimli, pinching him frenziedly.

"Oh, Gimli!" cried Legolas. "I am SO sorry! Quick, you must change out of them!"

So howling, Gimli dashed into the royal dressing room, shook the shorts out thoroughly, squashed all the earwigs mercilessly, and put them back on.

But, when he had rejoined Legolas, he wasn't feeling very well, so he resolved to stay at the side of the pool in a lounge chair, sipping some ale, while Legolas swam. And that's just what he did.

Legolas was feeling quite remorseful about Gimli's predicament, but didn't really know what to say. Apologies seem redundant when one uses them overmuch, so the elf wasn't certain he HAD anything left to say. He decided to shield Gimli from attacking earwigs at all costs thereafter. Another occurrence and he didn't know what would happen.

While pondering thus, he did a few quick laps around the edge of the pool – a breaststroke, then a sidestroke, then a backstroke, then an underwater breaststroke to the other side (he liked the feeling of his long hair gliding through the water behind him) – finally, he looked over to where Gimli had been sitting and noted that his friend had departed.

"That's odd," mused Legolas. "I wonder where he's gotten to."

"Right here," said Gimli, who was fully decked out in bee-keeping garb. The dwarf smiled through the mesh mask. "I'd like to see those little pests get through all this! But I brought more, just to be sure!" He pulled a large net out from behind his back and jumped into it, sealing it at the top with a drawstring.

Legolas laughed. "That's wonderful, Gimli! But how will you walk?"

Gimli cleared his throat. "Uh... I hadn't thought of that. Hmm... Good point. But still, at least I'm safe."

Legolas felt slightly better that his friend's mood had apparently improved.

Gimli reached up to stroke his beard, as he often did when in thought, but found it very difficult, thanks to the mesh.

"Well," said Legolas, changing the subject, "we had best head up to the dining area. I'm sure you're famished."

"Completely starved," agreed Gimli. "Let's go."

"I'll carry you, if you like," offered Legolas.

"Nonsense!" Gimli protested. "Nobody carries a dwarf!"

"Then how do you propose to get up two flights of stairs?" Legolas questioned, raising an eyebrow.

Gimli thought a minute. "Very well. You may carry me." He added as an afterthought: "As long as you swear never to tell."

"Alright, agreed." Legolas picked up the netted dwarf and slung him over his shoulder. After reentering the palace, heading down an ornately tapestried corridor and up two flights of steps, they reached the dining room, quite spacious and inviting. It wasn't a formal dining room (of which there were three in all), but it was nice nonetheless. There was a large stone fireplace on one wall and, on all the others, elaborate tapestries filled with exquisite designs in needlework – strange beasts, rivers, trees, ivy…. In the centre of the colorfully tiled room were four smoothly sanded plank tables, each about three feet apart. Matching runners adorned the tables, on which naught else was laid but a few tidy, half-burnt candles in decorative clay containers. On the wall opposite the door by which Legolas and his netted friend had entered, a stairway ran down to the main kitchens. Nearby, in a small shelved alcove, was a tiny bronze bell. Legolas gently set Gimli down and rang the bell – a clear, cheery voice. Kind of like that bell on the paperboy's bicycle with which he disturbs your rest every morning, ringing it relentlessly as he rides down the street and tosses a newspaper on your lawn.

Within fourteen seconds, an errand boy from the kitchens (he was the head cook's brightest young apprentice, a run-and-fetch it type) reached the top of the stairs. "Yes, Your Highness?" he said with a small bow, pulling out a thin scroll and a pencil. Gimli had, by this time, waddled over to a nearby table and plopped down on the bench. The boy looked at him questioningly, but said nothing in that regard.

"What do you want, Gimli?" asked Legolas, turning to the dwarf.

"What've you got in the way of meat?"

The boy thought a moment. "Venison, wild goose, bear, trout, and our specialty, giant spid—."

"Hsst!" Legolas ordered before the boy could finish. He didn't like outsiders to know that the Wood Elves considered giant spiders a delicacy, though he personally did not care for it. Too stringy and "muddy" tasting…

"Do you have anything…unhealthy?" asked Gimli. "You know, not so gourmet?"

"We also have hot dogs, hamburgers, French fries, milkshakes, ice-cream—"

"Bring it all!" said Gimli excitedly, trying to rub his hands together.

"Yes, Master Dwarf," agreed the boy, jotting notes on the scroll. "And you, Your Highness?"

Legolas sighed. "Just a salad." Was he the only one wondering how Gimli could eat in a net?

"Anything else?"

"No, thank-you, boy."

The errand-boy sprinted back down the steps.

"JUNK FOOD, Gimli?!!" Legolas cried immediately.

"I had a weak moment," admitted the dwarf.

Presently, the food arrived in all its greasy, high-calorie, high-cholesterol splendor. The servers (all twelve of them) arrayed the table from one end to the other and departed. Legolas stared. Gimli stared.

"Uh," said Legolas, finally disposed to bring up the subject, "how are you going to eat it?"

Gimli had (apparently) already thought of a solution, much to Legolas' surprise. "I'll just remove my face-guard and open the top of the net, then you can hand the food down and I'll eat it."

"Very well," said the elf.

"And make sure there are no earwigs!"

"Oh, you needn't worry about that in here," said Legolas. "They're all behind the tapestries."

"Phew," said Gimli sarcastically. "What a relief."

Legolas quickly ate his salad. A lot more quickly than he would've liked. Then he started handing the various junk foods down to Gimli.

"Oh, could you squirt some ketchup on that? How 'bout some mustard and mayo? What about relish?" They finally got through the "dinner" and moved on to dessert. "Nuts, sprinkles, syrup, yes, yes. Thank-you."

At last, mealtime was over, to Legolas' joy. How fun is it to feed someone dirty, gross, greasy stuff for thirty minutes? Really?

"So," said Gimli, wiping his mouth with the napkin Legolas had sent down, "what do you think is the cause of this 'infestation'?"

"Most people think it's because we got rid of so many spiders," replied Legolas. "There used to be a lot more of them around here, but, well, you know how much we Elves hate spiders. A few of the councilors became obsessed with it, back in the old days. They ran around the place with flyswatters and rolled up newspapers, smashing every spider in sight for miles. I am, of course, referring to the smaller type of spiders. You can't smash a giant spider with a newspaper. I certainly wouldn't advocate trying it either. Anyway, soon, there were no more spiders."

"Aw," said Gimli, "spiders aren't too bad. Just the big kind you folk have around here."

"Yes," continued Legolas, "but I've been terrified of them all my life. I think it's all the legs. Really, really creepy. And how they sometimes drop down on you from the ceiling while you're sleeping. My father calls them 'Spawn of Shelob'."

"Haven't you seen _Charlotte's Web_, laddie?"

"No, I refuse to view pig movies."

"I see," said Gimli. "But what do the spiders have to do with your earwig problem?"

"Well," Legolas replied, "the spiders moved out, the earwigs moved in. Spiders used to eat them all before."

"So why don't you reintroduce some spiders?"

"Eep!" cried Legolas. "Never! They're so creepy and gross…"

"Oh, don't be such a sissy," laughed the dwarf. "Which is better? Walking around in bee-keeping gear forever or having a couple o' spiders hanging around the place?"

Legolas gave in. "Alright, alright, I'll bring it up at the next meeting. We all knew the solution already, it just wasn't to our liking."

"Good. And now, to bed," said Gimli. "I'm tired." He really wasn't, but he had the wickedest idea…

----------

Later that night, Legolas was sleeping soundly on his princely bed, sprawled out over it on his stomach with arms across the pillows. Gimli was in the next room, quite awake. He had been awake for at least an hour already. He had to be sure the elf was asleep. His plan was rather simple. He remembered Legolas' jeering at him about his fear of the Paths of the Dead a few years back. Now he would finally have his revenge. Not the spiteful sort, but useful enough as a blackmail topic if necessary later. Finally, he rolled out of bed and slipped out of the net. Tip-toeing to Legolas' door, he crept into the room, towards the bed. Going around to the left side, he crouched down and reached his arm up, fingers poised.

In his sleep, Legolas felt some tickly things crawling on his back. A lot of them. Like eight of them. And they were crawling up and up… Then he heard a strange noise. It was a creaky, thin sort of…singing!

_The itsy-bitsy spider crawled up the prince's back_

_Down came the paper and hit it with a smack_

_Up came the spider that couldn't be killed that way_

_And the prince continued screaming until the break of day__…_

Legolas was subconsciously intrigued…until he caught on to the meaning of the words. Suddenly, he shot out of bed, shrieking, "Help! Spider! It's on me! Ahhhhhh!"

"Ahahahahahahahahaha!" Gimli roared with laughter, rolling on the floor.

Legolas, very worked up, finally realized that it had been a prank. "Ha-ha, very funny, Gimli. I can't believe you would take advantage of the fact that I bared my soul to you today – admitted my worst fear – and you insensitively capitalized on it!! How could you?!"

"Paths of the Dead…." was Gimli's simple reply.

"Ah, I see."

----------

The next morning, after breakfast, Legolas and Gimli attended a meeting that Legolas had arranged the day before. Most of the councilors, courtiers and nobles were present, including King Thranduil himself. He looked a good deal like Legolas, but a little older and had a sterner countenance. Those in attendance marked the dwarf with little concern. They had all gotten over their distrust since that incident with Thorin and his buddies a few decades before.

The council-chamber was large, round, and many-windowed. A cool breeze filtered through the diaphanous draperies and tossed the Elves' long, flowing hair as they waited for the purpose of the meeting to be disclosed.

Legolas stood up and stepped to the centre of the room. He was nervous because he hated speeches. He had never been very good at them. "My good lords (and dad): I would like to say that, uh, pretty much we need to deal with the earwig problem by reintroducing the small breed of spiders back into this region. Uh, yeah. That's pretty much it."

The room was silent for a minute. Then someone started yelling in protest and somebody else started arguing with him and yet another person joined in and soon almost everybody was at everybody else's throats. Most were of the opinion that it was for the best, but a few hot-headed spider-haters thought it was completely out of the question. Finally, Gimli pulled out a giant axe from somewhere and chopped into a nearby table. Nobody paid any attention. That made Gimli mad. He produced a bull-horn and yelled into it, "Would you all just shut up?!!" Still, nobody noticed. Finally, Gimli searched his pack and found an air-horn. "BLEEEEEEEEEEEP!!" That worked. Everybody slowly crawled out from under tables and chairs, looking frazzled and woozy (Elves have very good hearing, you see, and extremely loud noises give them instant head-aches).

"Now," said Gimli, pleased. "Legolas is the prince, so just get over it, would ya?! He can do whatever he wants. Sue him…."

"Very well," said one of the more fervently opposed. He pulled out a cell phone. "I'm calling my lawyer."

Thranduil, who was one of the few who didn't engage in the heated debate, finally stood. "I agree with my son."

"Gee, thanks, dad!" said Legolas.

"And I am king. KING!" Thranduil continued. "So whoever's good at it, go out in the woods with a couple of jars and catch some spiders. Then release them near the palace and our troubles should be over."

One of the more desperate stood up. "But I have a better idea, milord! Chickens! They'll eat all the bugs in sight."

"Yes," said Thranduil. "But what of the ones _inside_ the palace?"

"Let the chickens inside."

"What?!!" cried everybody in the room in unison.

"But they'll… um… 'mess' everywhere!" Legolas pointed out.

"That's why that won't work," said Thranduil. "So, like I said: I am KING! So, you and you. Go do it! Now."

"Yes, Your Majesty," the two chosen Elves said reluctantly, going to find some jars.

----------

"Well," said Gimli, shouldering his axe, "that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"No, not really," Legolas agreed. "And since you cured me of my fear of spiders with your tasteless joke, I think it's all going to turn out alright."

"Good," said Gimli. "I guess I'd better hit the road. The earwigs aren't quite gone yet and I wouldn't want another pinching episode."

"Short visit," Legolas sighed.

"Yes, but not empty."

"You're right. We had a good time (mostly). I'm still sorry that you couldn't stay longer…"

"I think I'd better get out of here before something else happens," said Gimli with a chuckle. "I've been rather pushing my luck staying out of the nets for this long."

"Quite right," said Legolas, laughing. "Well, then off you go. Safe journey!"

Gimli pulled his haversack over his shoulder and slipped the axe into his belt. And then he was off down the forest trail. Before he was quite out of sight, however, Legolas (who was still watching his departure) saw Gimli stop and start hopping up and down frantically, swiping at his clothing.

"Well, he _was _pushing his luck," said Legolas quietly.

The End


End file.
